Feelings Show
by Iwasallwoah
Summary: TV BASED: episode 1.13. Someone gives Chuck a little insight, and a little advice after he tells Blair he doesn't want her anymore. ONE SHOT could be continued ! Chuck x Blair


**A/N: This is my first Gossip Girl Fic, and I have to say…I'm **_**so**_** excited :) Not only is Gossip Girl one of my FAVORITE shows, it's one of my favorite book series' as well :) The thing that I like best about the show is probably……Blair x Chuck. :)))) I **_**absolutely**_** love them together, basically because it makes just…everything seem right in the world :) So, obviously, this is a Blair / Chuck fic :) YEY! It takes place during the part of episode 13, "A Thin Line Between Chuck And Nate", where Blair goes to see Chuck at when he's at the bar. My interpretation of Chuck's reasoning for being such an ass, and maybe more ;) Review, please!**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Gossip Girl**_** or its characters, nor do I own the beginning conversation as seen on GG. **

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"I came to congratulate you in person. You ruined my relationship with Nate, Serena, all of my friends. Even Little Jenny thinks she's too good for me. So, bravo! Just like you wanted, I have no one to turn to, but you." She said, ending the statement with a soft sigh.

"Actually, you don't even have me." He sipped his drink, acting satisfied with his statement.

"Enough," she said, thinking he was joking. She looked him straight in the eyes as he stared into hers, darkly.

"I'll try to be more succinct. You held a certain fascination when you were beautiful, delicate, and untouched. But now you're like one of the Arabians my father used to own; rode hard and put away wet. I don't want you anymore. And I can't see why anyone else would…" He stated. He averted his eyes from hers, terrified to see what her reaction to his rude beyond belief statement. She didn't say a word, just got up and walked out.

As soon as he heard the door click shut, he dropped his head, resting it down on the bar, "Well you're quite the charmer," the bartender mumbled, as Chuck Bass lifted his gaze to the man, clad in a white dress shirt, black vest and bow tie, "another?" he asked, gesturing to his drink- scotch on the rocks- and Chuck nodded. "Seriously, why were you such an ass to her, she seemed pretty depressed." Chuck snapped his head up, glaring bewilderedly at the bartender as he furrowed his brow.

"Don't you have someone else to _serve_?" Chuck snapped, saying the word 'serve' with as much scorn as he could muster and glaring coldly at the smug looking young man. The bartender looked both ways over his shoulders and shrugged, smirking.

"I guess not," he smiled, and crossed his arms, leaning back onto the credenza behind the bar, where all the alcohol was, "I got all the time in the world." He tossed a balled up towel between his hands, then pulled a short glass from under the bar, discarding Chuck's dirty one in a black bin- also under the bar- and wiping the new one before pouring Chuck's drink. "So, lay it on me."

"Are you serious?" Chuck mumbled, glancing over his shoulder as if the bartender was joking. Barely anyone was in the dimly lit restaurant, and nobody else was at the bar. "I was protecting her, okay?"

"Yeah, right…Telling her she's been 'rode hard and put away wet' like 'an Arabian' is something said with extreme thought put into it beforehand and precautious reasoning." The bartender snorted, looking bemusedly at Chuck.

"Look," Chuck snapped, "I'm an _ass_. Even I know it, alright? I'm the one who destroyed her, anyway. If she ever totally finds out about that, do you know how dead I'd end up?"

"This isn't about how much you fucked up, man." The bartender said, "it's about why you made that girl, who was obviously disregarding all thoughts of her reputation, or lack there of, while she was pretty much giving up, feel like dirt. She was letting you _have _her…and it's pretty obvious she's something you want, so why didn't you just go for it?"

"It's complicated, okay?" Chuck said, rolling his eyes. The bartender snorted again, and looked at Chuck with raised eyebrows.

"It can't be too complicated to figure out…and like I said, I got all the time in the world. Why don't you take a stab at explaining it?" The bartender said, and tilted his head to the side, inviting him to explain.

"You really aren't going to quit?" Chuck asked, and the bartender shook his head. Chuck took it as a challenge: Chuck _never_ turned away a challenge. He sighed, contemplating exactly where to start, "Okay…so I've pretty much loved that girl since we were three. I spilled a glass of grape juice down the front of her white party dress, and she cried, so I gave her my cake…I don't exactly remember the whole thing, considering I was three, but I knew that when she smiled, I loved her." He took a breath. This was the first time he was telling anyone this. He'd never even spoke it out loud. "So…flash forward about fourteen years, to three or four months ago. Her on again off again boyfriend was being a prick, and I guess I saw my chance. We slept together in the back of my limo…" Chuck said, blushing. Usually, he'd say something dirty, or joke about how classy he was, but he didn't feel it was the place. He wasn't anywhere near being a prude, but still, this was a little personal to be telling this odd stranger who was pouring him drinks- even though he completely knew he was underage. Oh well, just another perk of being a- semi-outcast- Prince of the upper east side. "So, we were sort of together…but in secret. He stood her up on her birthday…and I comforted her about it. I was there for her when she needed me…I was really happy about it, and I knew she was, too. You could just tell…and then she decided to become friends with her ex…who also happens to be my best friend. He figured out that he 'quote-unquote' still loved her, and had been dumb to dump her in the first place. She kicked me to the curb to get back with him, and that's when I started torturing her. She told me not to tell Nate- that's the boyfriend- about us…I guess I sort of taunted her about it…sort of." Chuck looked back up at the bartender- he'd been tracing the rim of the still full glass of scotch with his index finger.

"That still doesn't explain to me why you were such an ass to her. I mean, it's not just because you _are_ an ass. Not even the jerkiest guy would be _that_ rude to someone for no reason." The bartender said, cracking his knuckles. Chuck scratched the back of his neck, deep in thought for a few moments before placing his face down palms on the cool surface of the bar.

"I guess I sort of realized that I wasn't…Well, let's just say that…I don't find myself the most reliable person. Nate, however, is pretty much the safest bet. She's going to be okay with him…and it's not like they won't eventually figure everything out. They _always_ have…" He said 'always' with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I guess her being with Nate is the surest way to know that she won't get hurt…I can't stand seeing her hurt." Chuck finished. His face was pale, and there were slight bags forming under his eyes.

"…She isn't with Nate anymore…" The bartender stated flatly. Chuck looked up at him with a question in his eyes. "She said you ruined her relationship with him…so I'm guessing he found out about you two and broke up with her."

"Shit," Chuck cursed under his breath. He had to make a decision: Go to her or let her be? He knew what he wanted to do, that was quite the 'duh' statement. He wanted to be with her, obviously, but would she be okay in the long run? If he hurt her, would she be able to handle him always coming back, not apologizing, and expecting things not to change? He knew he was moody, and he knew it was something people found hard to deal with. He had been lucky to have friends that were pre-set for him, because he would have had a tough time making them. For once, he was going to take a dive. He knew on the outside, he seemed like a daring person, after all- he never said no to a challenge. That was only one side of his personality though- usually he was analytical, always second guessing what he was doing. It was a side he kept hidden, no one really knew about it other than himself. He didn't deeply contemplate all the things that could go wrong this time, though. He looked at the bartender, and a slight, twisted grin appeared on his face. He slapped some money on the bar and looked appreciatively at the guy. "Thanks, man." He said. The bartender nodded at him while smiling, and Chuck walked out after grabbing his black coat off the back of his chair.

As Chuck raced down Lexington (Blair's apartment was directly across from the Met, on Park and Eighty-second,) off of ninety-third, he began to think. What if she was cold to him? He didn't know if he really wanted rejection to be in his day runner. God, sometimes he sounded like such a girl. He was approaching Eighty-ninth. Seven blocks to go. He wanted to stop thinking about what her reaction would be. He knew she'd be partially mad, if not wholly mad. He hoped it was the former, but knowing Blair, knowing _himself_, it was probably the latter. He breathed out, his breath a pale white-ish color in the air. He needed to walk faster- get there before he lost his nerve. Eighty-fourth, two more left. He accelerated to a near sprint, really hoping he would just _get _ there already. Finally, as he approached the tall, somewhat statuesque apartment building, he was surprised to find he really wasn't as nervous as he'd thought. It was more of an anxious fleeting feeling, wanting to get it over with, wanting to put all of the crap they'd been going through out of the way. He took a couple deep breaths, then pushed through the revolving doors, making a mental note to tell Blair something snide about the doorman not being there after she- hopefully- forgave him. He walked across the fancy lobby and called the elevator. As he rode up, the elevator slowly rising, he rested his head against the cool metal on the walls. He'd shut his eyes, and suddenly he heard a faint ding, and the sliding of doors. He opened his eyes, and walked slowly into the entrance of the Waldorf's apartment. The red haired Irish maid (**A/N: In the books, the maid is Irish, I'm not too sure about the show.**) bustled into the room and opened her mouth to greet Chuck, but he put a finger to his lips in a shushing manner. "She doesn't know I'm here," he whispered, "and I'd like to keep it that way. I'll just go up to her room." The maid looked puzzled, but nodded. Chuck slowly headed up the winding staircase. He walked down the hall, and knocked on the second door on the left, sucking in air. The door clicked open after a few minutes, confusion transmitting through the slow pull.

"Muriel, I said co…come in…" Blair said, trailing off at the end. She glared at Chuck, who had his hands stuffed in his pockets, and rocked back and forth on his heels. "What?" She asked softly, yet with a little snip, "Did you want to insult me a little more?"

"I…I'm sorry, Blair." He whispered, looking at her straight on.

"Sorry? You think a simple _sorry_ is going to help?!" She said, getting a little upset.

"I…I know you're mad. You have absolutely every single right to be…but for once, _I'm_ coming to _you_, vulnerable as hell, and I'm just asking you to…to let me be with you." Chuck said, finishing in a near whisper. He looked down, acting as if the black loafers he was wearing were the most interesting things he'd ever seen.

"…Chuck…I…" she said. He looked back up at her, his eyes boring into hers, "I don't know if I ca--" she whispered, but he cut her off, pulling her chin forward and connecting their lips. The kiss was hungry, even greedy, like he wanted all of her and no one else to have it. When they broke off, Blair looked up at him with big, full, even innocent eyes. She was asking him a question. He looked at her expectantly. He wanted her to actually say it. "…Do you mean it?"

"Every word," he answered confidently. Before he had time to react properly, she launched herself on him, making him stumble a little. Her lips were on his, kissing him furiously, ferociously. He rested against the closed half of her double doors, and tangled his fingers in her hair. She had her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. As soon as they broke for air he began to kiss along her neck and collar bone. She moaned softly, tilting her head back.

"I'm leaving tomorrow night…I'm going…to France," she whispered breathlessly.

"I don't care, B, now that I have you, I'm not letting you go." He said between kisses pressed to her jaw line. He brought her face back down, and shook his head, "Really, I swear," he grumbled, "It'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" She asked, her eyes still big and full, and her eyebrows raised in that questioning manner.

"Utterly and completely." He answered. She let out a giggle, and smiled happily. He hoisted her up higher on his waist and got off the door, carrying her through the open side of the door and kicking it shut with his foot.

Hours later, the two lay tangled together in Blair's tan sheets, clothes strewn all over the floor. Blair's head was on Chuck's chest, while his face was in her hair. He could live the rest of his life like this, smelling her hair, her head on his chest, secluded from everyone else. Together, and apart from the world, that's how he wanted it to be. "…You don't know how much I'll miss you…it's like, we finally just figure it out, and then…it's all gone." Blair mumbled. Chuck sighed, stroking her hair.

"Don't go," he whined in a grovely voice, "please…" He kissed the top of her head lightly, then pulled her up so they were at eye level with each other.

"I can't back out of it now, Chuck, I just told him I'd come…right before you got here." She said, ending the sentence with a hint of sadness.

"I'll miss you, B. I'll miss you so much it's going to hurt." He said, resting his forehead to hers. He looked into her coffee-bean-brown eyes, trying to tell her through his own dark eyes how much he'd miss her.

"I'll miss you just as much…" she said, searching his eyes, "Even more."

"I doubt that's possible." He mumbled.

"I don't." she said strongly.

"I love you, Blair Waldorf." He said to her, a genuine smile playing on his lips. He'd never said those three words to _anyone_ before. Not even his parents (unless you count when he was younger and didn't know what they meant- he didn't.) And he meant it. He loved her. It was so simple, he _loved_ her.

"I love you too, Chuck Bass." She said, grinning like a fool.

"I've never said those words before," he admitted.

"Well," she said, settling herself in his arms and yawning, "I'm glad I could be your first _something_." She laughed quietly, and yawned again.

"Go to sleep, B." He said, kissing her full, on the mouth, then on the forehead before leaning back into the bed.

"G'night," she said, sighing in contentment. He just stroked her hair, happy to finally be there, in the moment, and with the one girl there, in the moment, and with the one girl he could really love.

**A/N: So, I figured out that eventually (meaning probably not soon, but you never know,) I could turn this into a full story, following Blair & Chuck in my head :) Cause as we all know, Blair **_**doesn't**_** go to France…so then what would happen. :) I'll only be updating when I need to clear my head though :) AKA-every once in a while ;) Review please! I need to know if it sucks or not :) XOXO, Cher :)**


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